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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23774545">Offstage Right</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/talefeathers/pseuds/talefeathers'>talefeathers</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Blood and Gore, Character Death, Character Study, Drabble, Fear, Gen, Skinning, alternate perspective</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 20:01:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>324</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23774545</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/talefeathers/pseuds/talefeathers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bleeding out just offstage right at Robert Smirke’s second Theatre Royal in Covent Garden while something onstage wears his skin, Danny Stoker thinks he has now felt the deepest fear he will ever face. That is, until a familiar shout echoes down to him from the back of the theatre.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Danny Stoker &amp; Tim Stoker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Offstage Right</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Prompt: "Things you said at the back of the theatre."</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Bleeding out just offstage right at Robert Smirke’s second Theatre Royal in Covent Garden while something onstage wears his skin, Danny Stoker thinks he has now felt the deepest fear he will ever face. He is more frightened now than he has ever been in his thrill-seeking life, and soon, he knows, he will die. His only solace in his final moments is that there isn’t much time for things to get worse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That is, of course, until a familiar shout echoes down to him from the back of the theatre.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Danny!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Tim.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Terror crackles through Danny anew, like lightning, white hot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” he gasps, the exposed muscles of his cheeks singing with pain as tears sink into them, mixing with his blood. “No. God. Tim.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tries to call out a warning, but he is too weak; his voice is like paper in his throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“<em>Danny!</em>” Tim shouts again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tim,” Danny sobs, just barely out of sight, out of earshot. Out of reach. “Tim don’t, please don’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shall I?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Danny’s stomach turns to ice at the sound of the clown’s voice. He can’t see him, that horror, all black and white and red, nor can he see the thing it's sewed up into his skin and his clothes; he’d turned away while he still had the strength to, and he no longer has the strength to turn back. He hears, though, a sound like a heavy cloth being snapped in the wind, followed by a thin, tense silence, a non-sound, like the breath before a glass shatters on tile flooring.</span>
</p>
<p>That's when Tim begins to scream.</p>
<p>He screams in a mad, frenzied way that makes Danny wonder if he even realizes he's doing it. He screams as if to empty himself, barely stopping to take even the shallowest of breaths.</p>
<p>
  <span>And all Danny can do in response is whisper his brother’s name, again, again, as death wraps itself around him like dark water.</span>
</p>
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